


Flowers for You

by Chaos_Valkyrie



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, Havoc Fails at Dating, Hawkeye Scares Everyone, Hospitalization, Language of Flowers, M/M, Scheming Alphonse, Ungodly Amounts of Flowers, Winry Also Scares Everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6678028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaos_Valkyrie/pseuds/Chaos_Valkyrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four people. Four hospital stays. A countless number of ways to say 'I love you'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Roy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by two things – a newfound interest in the meanings of flowers, and all the times I’ve seen Ed in the hospital with near-fatal injuries. No offense, people, but somehow Ed gets more hospital time than any other FMA character in fan fiction. Maybe even any other character in all my fan-fic-doms. Anywho, I decided it should be Roy’s turn. For now. Enjoy.

Colonel Roy Mustang, feared and revered as the Flame Alchemist, twitched in a most amusing manner as the drone of several familiar voices hastened his return to the world of the conscious.

“It looks like a freakin’ florist’s shop in here!”

“Several shops, actually.”

His brow creased at the rustling noises and the ‘thunk’ of something heavy hitting cheap particle board furniture.

“Are there actually this many women in Central?”

“…in Amestris, for that matter?”

He dazedly struggled to understand what was going on. But his eyelids were far too heavy to care. Why were they…?

The creaking of a door. A matronly voice and a metallic sounding ‘clank’ of something nearby. More rustling.

And what the hell was that smell?

“Shit!” The loud exclamation would have made him jump had he not been too busy floatin’ along in his pleasant haze. “I was supposed to go out with her tonight!”

A laugh. “Mustang stole another one, Jean?”

“He didn’t even have to do anything this time, and he still stole her from me!” a voice wailed. A familiar aura of gloom penetrated the fog surrounding him, hastening his return.

“Damn it! Stop smirking at me in your drugged-up state!”

“Sir? Are you awake? Your lunch is getting cold, sir,” a voice said, nudging his elbow. Roy Mustang merely groaned, whimpering a little as he tried to force himself awake. 

“Do you think the Colonel would mind if I ate his Jell-o?”

The oh-so-familiar snap of a pistol’s bolt finally jerked him from his daze.

“I wasn’t sleeping! Really!” he slurred, hand automatically grabbing for a pen. He blinked groggily as his hand met cool sheets and the room exploded into laughter. 

“We should inform the doctor that his reflexes are fine,” Hawkeye smirked, her gun still trained on Breda, who was conspicuously eyeing Roy’s lunch tray even as he backed away from the bed.

Oh, that’s right. He wasn’t in the office – he was in the hospital. 

The day prior, a raging fever had forced him – or rather, Hawkeye and her pistol had forced him – to the doctor’s office, who promptly notified him that his appendix was inflamed and needed to be removed. As it had been, just this morning.

Roy blinked a few times as he looked about the room. And blinked some more as the glare of literally hundreds of flowers nearly seared his retinas.

Well, that explained the smell. 

“Did I… miss something?” he asked, voice hoarse from his drug-induced sleep.

“Only the Great Amestrian flower shortage,” Fuery quipped as Falman handed Mustang a glass of water. He sipped it cautiously as he squinted about the room. Roses, roses, more roses… the smell was overpowering.

“How are you feeling, sir?” Hawkeye asked as she returned her gun to its holster.

“Like I need more painkillers,” Roy answered succinctly, reaching out and saving his Jell-o from a disappointed looking Breda. “Mm, cherry,” he muttered as he fumbled with the spoon. His men grinned.

“I will notify the hospital staff, sir,” Falman saluted, exiting the room. Roy shrugged, gulping his gelatin as he warily eyed the remaining ‘food’ on his tray. Meanwhile, Breda joined Havoc in reading the tags on the various bouquets.

“Hey, look! A melon from the Fuhrer,” Havoc smirked, glancing over his shoulder at his superior officer.

“Oh. Joy.” Roy groaned, earning another chuckle from his men. “It’s all yours, Breda.” 

“The fruit basket is from us, sir,” Fuery spoke up, drawing his attention to what must have been the source of the loud thunk from before. A sly glance between his male subordinates warned him not to investigate it until later.

“We figured you would have plenty of flowers already,” Havoc added.

“Thank you, all of you,” he replied warmly, returning to his meager lunch.

“Why all roses, though?” Breda asked as Falman reentered the room. Hawkeye saved Roy the trouble of answering.

“Roses are traditionally a symbol of love, Breda. These women –“

“– fan girls –“ Havoc interjected.

“– are proclaiming their devotion to our Colonel,” she finished, reaching for a card herself.

“The red rose symbolizes true love; the pink, passion; lavender, love at first sight; the orange, desire –“

Fuery cut Falman off. “What about black?” he asked curiously, pulling the card from a nearly hidden bouquet.

“Either they want me dead, or they’re goth. Hawkeye?” Roy asked as Hawkeye took the card herself.

“I’ll look into it, sir,” she stated, pocketing the card.

A knock sounded at the door. “Visiting hours are almost over,” a motherly voice stated, an older nurse poking her head into the room. 

“We’ll be back tomorrow, Chief,” Breda said as he and the others shuffled towards the door. Roy nodded in agreement.

“I have two orders before any of you leave,” he commanded before they could make their getaway. His subordinates sighed, knowing what was coming.

*****

Half an hour later, Roy lay back in bed with a smile. Hawkeye had taken his first command and literally run with it – out the door and to the nurse’s station as the others grumbled amongst themselves.

His first command – see to it that any other flowers or gifts were forwarded to the office so he wouldn’t have to deal with the obnoxious odor in the small enclosed room.

The second was for them to take all the flowers with them as they left.

So now Roy was left with only the faint lingering odor, an odd bouquet of tulips, the fruit basket, and much to his chagrin, the melon from Fuhrer Bradley.

“Breda must’ve left that out of spite,” he murmured before turning gleefully to the gift from his men.

Over the years, as each of them had been laid low by various illnesses and injuries, Roy had made it a point to provide each of them with their ‘necessities’. Cigarettes, books, games, junk food, magazines… whatever was considered contraband by hospital or Hawkeye was secreted in a less obtrusive gift and hand delivered to the injured party. 

And now, it was finally time for payback.

The basket already contained a large assortment of fruit topside, a travel chess board peeking out from between two apples. He quickly shifted the fruit and games to his bed-tray, then lifted the false-bottom from the basket and grinned.

He unwrapped and popped a truffle in his mouth as he sorted through the stash, pleased with his subordinates’ resourcefulness. They had really outdone themselves this time, both in the offering and how they had hidden it from Hawkeye. 

Actually, correct that, she probably knew damn well what was in there. It was rare that anything got by her. Which was reinforced as he shifted the basket back to the side table, and noticed the stack of paperwork sitting on the chair next to it. With a pen perched conspicuously on top. His eye twitched.

A flash of red caught his eye, and he turned to his right. Of all the flowers, this was the only bouquet they had left. And if the drugs had not deceived him, Hawkeye had even winked at him as she placed it on the table next to him.

Tulips. Already they stood out for the sheer sake of being unique from all the roses that had littered the room. And red tulips at that, a cheerful shade, perhaps only a hair lighter than Fullmetal’s coat. The thought of the smaller alchemist brought a faint frown to his face.

He was in Central, wasn’t he? Roy thought back… he was supposed to meet with him yesterday, before he was shuffled over here by Riza. So why had he not been here with the others? Roy always visited him when he was in the hospital… 

All right, so he tended to visit, make disparaging comments and was usually kicked out by the doctors before he could further damage the room and/or patient. Nitpicky details.

Anyway, why had he not reciprocated? Did he not care that his superior officer was in the hospital?

Granted, Edward most likely didn’t realize that Roy thought of him as more than just a subordinate… And honestly, he probably thought Roy was still the womanizer all of Central reported him to be…

Hell, he seriously doubted that Ed realized he wasn’t so interested in women anymore, and hadn’t been since the day he discovered that his teasing of the smaller alchemist had morphed into something deeper, brighter…

Roy valiantly tried to convince himself that he didn’t care in the slightest that the person he loved didn’t give a flying fuck that he was hospital.

…

It didn’t work. He blamed the damn painkillers.

He sighed, focusing on the flowers again. Red tulips? If memory served him correctly, someone was declaring their love for the Flame Alchemist. And it was someone that even Riza Hawkeye approved of, judging by the knowing smile she had worn as she had placed them beside his bed. So who on earth could win even her favor…

Roy pulled the bouquet closer, unconsciously sniffing the flowers as he fumbled with the small envelope. Only to choke, moments later, as he recognized the haphazard scrawl on the plain white card within…

‘Hurry the hell up and get out of the damned hospital, bastard!’

‘Get well soon,’ in a classic Edwardian rendition. The much neater handwriting of Alphonse lay underneath.

‘Please forgive Brother for being… Brother. Get well soon, sir.  
Alphonse.’

Roy laughed, a true smile lighting his face. He wondered if he should convince Alphonse to give his brother lessons in penmanship. He’d probably find himself at the end of an automail blade for even thinking it. 

Which, of course, made him want to suggest it all the more. Once he was out of here, of course. He didn’t think the doctors would appreciate the potential damage such a suggestion would bring about…

His heart swelled with something suspiciously like hope. Did Edward even realize what red tulips stood for? Or was it mere coincidence? He’d have to play this one very carefully to find out…

The smile grew more devious; a smile that would’ve put Ed immediately on the defensive, as it signified Mustang at his absolute worst.

Roy knew exactly how to rig this game in his favor. It was only a matter of time…


	2. Edward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed’s turn. And Roy is very evil. Enjoy.

Edward Elric was Bored (note the capital ‘B’). And when Edward Elric was Bored, capital ‘B’, Bad Things tended to happen to good buildings…

His mission reports were proof of that.

However, Bad Things were only guaranteed to happen when he had two working legs. And seeing as he was rather… lacking in that area currently…

“Geez Al, you’re such a mother hen,” Ed griped as his brother stood over the hospital bed, adjusting the tray just-so for his older brother’s comfort.

“Well, maybe if I could trust you to look after yourself…” Al trailed off, his voice definitely smirking, even if the cool armor remained impassive.

“I can’t help it if that building was in the way!” Ed snarled, fingers curling at the reminder.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that the building will no longer be in anyone’s way, Brother.”

“Good riddance.”

Alphonse sighed with long suffering, waiting for the inevitable…

“So, when’s lunch?” Ed asked eagerly.

“Not for another hour, brother. Five minutes less than the last time you asked. Try to be patient…”

“I’m bored! I’ve got two cracked ribs, a nasty gash across my forehead, miscellaneous abrasions, and my leg’s busted!” he exclaimed, pointing at the wreckage of his automail leg.

“At least you still have your arm,” Al reminded him.

“Only until Winry gets here.” Ed sulked while Al giggled. “Least you could do is go get me a magazine or something!”

“The magazines are all the same ones you read the last time you were here. And the time before that.”

“…Damn.”

The brothers sat in long silence, Al patiently waiting while Ed picked at his sheets and wondered if anyone would notice if he alchemized the side table…

“Don’t even think about it, Brother.”

“What?!” Ed exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in a gesture of implied innocence.

“The side table. Alchemy.” Alphonse would’ve rolled his eyes if he could’ve. 

“You’re no fun, Al.”

“Mail call!” A volunteer pushed a cart into the room, smiling at Edward. The smile faltered slightly as it took in the large suit of armor hovering over the bed. The man turned to the cart and rooted through the various flowers and packages.

“Is this your first time in the hospital, kiddo?” he asked nicely.

“WHO’RE YOU…” the rest was muffled under a large armored hand.

“Now brother, you know what the doctors said the last time you yelled at the volunteers…” Al turned to the very confused candy-striper. “You might just want to leave the mail on the table and go.”

The man took one look at the furious (and quite possibly insane) kid with the automail arm on the bed, nodded quickly and fled.

“Brother…”

“What?!” Ed shrugged. “He’s still alive… now pass that stuff over,” he added eagerly.

Al sighed. Which turned to a choked laugh as he reached for the first of several packages next to the door.

“What’s so funny?”

“This,” Al said, setting the first gift on the tray table before ripping open a letter with his own name on it. Al laughed fully as he scanned the contents. Meanwhile…

“What the hell is a carton of milk doing in this room?!” Ed screeched, trying to push the table as far away from himself as possible.

“Major Armstrong,” Al started, waving the letter in his hand, “wishes you a speedy recovery, and has tried to impress upon me the importance of me making you drink your milk. Something about how drinking milk has been a long-standing tradition for building strong bones in the Armstrong family…”

“That sparkly, bare-chested… bastard!” Ed snarled. Alphonse continued to laugh as he grabbed the next item from beside the door… this time, a bouquet of…

“Are those… wrenches?” Ed asked, as both brothers stared at the arrangement of several sprigs of light pink flowers mixed with wrenches. “Those have to be from Winry.”

“But Brother, there’s no card…”

“They’re wrenches, Al. Who else would’ve sent it?”

Alphonse couldn’t argue with that.

“What kind of flowers are these?” Ed asked as Al set the bouquet on the table next to Ed. 

“Almond blossoms, I think,” Al stated. Ed stared at him in disbelief.

“How do you know that?”

“Read it in a book once,” the younger brother shrugged as he walked back to the door. “A gift box from the office.”

“Oo! Give it, give it!” Ed nearly fell off the bed in his impatience to receive the box from his brother. Al sighed, but willingly handed it over. Ed tore into the box with glee.

“Yes!” he cried, popping a piece of candy in his mouth as he sorted through the junk the other officers – Havoc, Breda, Fuery, and Falman – had sent him. “We’ll play cards later,” he told his brother, tossing the new deck onto the sheets as he rooted through the box.

“Only if you refrain from eating all the candy today, brother,” Al warned. Ed snorted.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye sent you a book of puzzles and some pencils,” Al stated, passing the bag over to his brother. 

“’A thousand mind benders’!” Ed read off the cover, “How long does she think I’m gonna be in here?”

“She handles the paperwork, remember brother? She probably remembers the last time you got Bored in the hospital.”

“…I put everything back to normal before we left.”

Alphonse chose not to comment. “And finally a bouquet and package…” Al chuckled in glee.

“What?” Ed looked up from the puzzle book. Al shook his head, setting the flowers and package next to the bed.

“Who’re those from?” Ed asked, tilting his head in confusion. He recognized the red carnations, but he had no idea what the frilly white things were, nor the little blue and yellow flowers either.

“Flowers… from the Colonel,” Al said in a sing-song voice.

“Why would that bastard send me flowers?!” Ed yelped, his face glowing red. Alphonse enjoyed the tell-tale look on his brother’s face, but decided to show him a little mercy.

“Probably because we sent him flowers last month when he was in the hospital… remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ed replied, the color fading from his cheeks. Only to have it promptly return as he read the attached card, only this time, it was from anger. “That BASTARD!”

“Brother! Hush!” Al stated, looking at the card himself. He wisely held back his laughter as he read the inscription:

Be a good little puppy and ‘heal’.

Meanwhile, Ed continued to rant and rave, albeit in a quieter tone of voice.

“…Call me a puppy, will he! Tell me to heel! When I get a hold of that bastard I’ll shove my blade so far up his…”

“Brother!” Al reprimanded. Ed ignored him. He tried again. “I’m going to tell the doctor to lower the dosage on your painkillers,” Al warned. Ed blinked.

“You’re no fun, Al,” Ed sighed. Al inwardly grinned.

“I’ll go see how soon they’re bringing your lunch,” Al said, earning a smile from his brother before he left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

*****

Ed sighed happily as he glanced about the bleak little room. As much as he hated being in the hospital, especially with Winry’s impending visit looming over him, he was actually kind of enjoying himself this time. 

He’d never say it out loud, but he was always touched by the fact that someone other than his brother would try to make sure that his hospital stays were as comfortable as possible. The contraband from the ‘guys’, Hawkeye’s little time-wasters, the visits from whoever happened to be in the area… it made him feel like he had a family again.

His flesh hand brushed something, and he looked down at the package on the table and frowned.

“This from the bastard too?” he muttered, his eyes automatically drifting to the flowers. He felt his face burn again in pleased embarrassment. 

“Why these flowers, anyway?” he asked sniffing them lightly. He wasn’t an expert, but from his brief foray into the florist shop last month, he knew that this was not a pre-arranged bouquet – the bastard had to have put this together himself.

“They were probably the cheapest or something…” he muttered, his stomach dropping a little at the thought. He turned back to the package to distract himself.

“What is this…” he said, picking it up. It felt like… “A book?” He brightened, ripping through the paper in glee. “Maybe it’ll be on alchemy! About the Stone! Or… What the hell?” he asked, almost dropping the now unveiled book. 

“The Language of Flowers?” he read aloud. He looked at the lurid cover and flinched, tearing off the dust jacket and tossing it away from the bed. “Well, maybe it’ll at least tell me what those things are,” he shrugged, flipping through the pages.

A page of pinkish blooms caught his eye. “Almond blossoms?” he looked at the bouquet from Winry and grinned. “Yep. Definitely almond blossoms. Which mean… ‘promise’.” He looked again at the flowers, then the wrenches, and gulped. Hard.

“Add another head injury to the list,” he said with a weary shudder. He continued to flip through the book. 

“Carnations… blue… pink… red carnations… ‘my heart aches for you’… what?” he did drop the book this time, fortunately only to his lap. He blinked in shock at the book, then the flowers, then the book again.

“Wait, does that mean… he… he couldn’t have known… but then why send the book…” Ed’s heart leapt, and he looked at the bouquet with new eyes. “He sent these on purpose, then…” A slow smile formed. “Dunno why, but…” He frantically grabbed the book again, flipping through the pages to find the next flower.

“It’s like a code! A flower code! So carnations are ‘my heart aches for you’…” he whispered to himself, tearing through the pages until he spotted a familiar blue flower. “Forget-me-nots! Those mean…” his eyes widened, “’true love’.” He grinned. “He loves me?”

Ed sat in a pleasant haze for a few moments, smiling foolishly. He turned back to the book, going slower as he combed the pages for the final flower, chanting ‘he loves me’ softly to himself.

“Hm… those lacy things are jonquils… ‘return my affection’.” Ed grinned, smiling over at the flowers beside his bed. “So his ‘heart aches for me’, with ‘true love’, and he asks me to ‘return his affection’?!” Ed suppressed the urge to squeal like a lovesick schoolgirl as he sat in a pleasant haze for several minutes. But eventually, a tiny thought began to nag at him.

“What brought this up, anyway? Al said it was because of the flowers… last month…” The flowers. The tulips that Al had taken one look at and had declared ‘perfect’. Ed flipped through the book suspiciously.

“Tulips… red… ‘a declaration of affection’? My own brother set me up?!” he yelped.

And suddenly, the whole last month took on a new sense of clarity. 

The jokes.

The looks.

The teasing.

The innuendo.

Had he been that fucking obvious?!

“Brother, lunch’ll be ready…” Al took one look at his brother as he reentered the room and stuck his head back out into the hall.

“Doctor? Is it time for more painkillers? I think my brother is hyperventilating.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alphonse will be next. And no, I do not support OD-ing on painkillers. Drugs are bad, m’kay. ‘Til next time!


	3. Alphonse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, but hopefully still sweet.

Alphonse Elric tingled.

There was no other way to describe it, really. His flesh – flesh! – appendages simply buzzed with some ungodly energy, in spite of how bone-achingly tired he was.

The beeping of a heart monitor echoed down the hall, and he kept his overly-sensitive eyes shut as he slowly regained awareness of his surroundings.

The sheets were soft. His raw-feeling flesh rejoiced in this, as they hadn’t been when he was first brought to this room the day before. His brother had merely looked at his expression and alchemized them without saying a word. He then proceeded to dim the lights and remove all unnecessarily loud equipment as well.

Edward merely laughed off his gratitude, whispering that it was his long overdue turn to play mother hen.

Alphonse took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. The simple act entranced him.

Until something assaulted his nose. Inhale. Flowers. Exhale.

Luckily, they weren’t too overwhelming, but still strong enough to give him a heady rush. 

A soft mumble from nearby made him grin, and he slowly cracked open one eye, once again grateful for the dim lighting.

A deeper grumble made him giggle softly, and he opened both eyes to peer over at his sleeping guardians. A soft smile graced his chapped lips as he gazed fondly at the pair, sleeping soundly despite their rather precarious positions across several stolen waiting room chairs.

Edward twitched again, mumbling indistinctly as his automail fingers curled into the folds of the Roy’s shirt. The younger alchemist was sprawled atop the reclining form of his lover, his head tucked just under Mustang’s chin. Roy’s arms were wrapped about him, keeping him in place and not seeming to mind the discomfort of their respective positions.

Al’s smile widened. Even in sleep the pair couldn’t seem to stray too far from each other. It had been that way ever since that fateful affair with the flowers a year ago…

The grin turned to a self-satisfied smirk. The smirk, however, softened as he turned his head and glanced at the bouquets on the table furthest from his bed in the room.

Two simple bouquets, and what looked like the Mustang Office Requisite Gift Basket. His eyes teared a little, thinking of all the support he and his brother had been given for all these years.

And maybe the happy tears also stemmed from the bouquets and their meanings as well. 

The daisies and arbor vitae were arranged in one simple vase with a white bow around its neck – definitely from his brother and Roy.

He squinted a bit at the other bouquet. It was arranged in something strange, it looked like an old… automail parts tin?

His cheeks warmed as his eyes shifted to the flowers, then glowed darker.

Two roses – red and white – surrounded by a thick bundle of Stars of Bethlehem – the simple little flowers that grew in the fields around their childhood home.

He sniffled a little, quietly, and smiled. Of course he knew what the flowers meant. Just as he had all those years ago, when he had encouraged his brother to send those Elric-red tulips to the then colonel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Al is the evilest of all. Because it’s always the quiet ones. This was supposed to be the last, but Winry wouldn’t leave me alone, so look for her as the next (and last).
> 
> The meanings of the flowers:
> 
> to Al from Ed & Roy  
> daisies and arbor vitae (innocence, loyal love, purity, faith, cheer, simplicity & everlasting friendship)
> 
> to Al from Winry  
> red rose, white rose, stars of Bethlehem (true love, eternal love, hope)


	4. Winry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The short but sweet-ish (and very violent) conclusion to this series. Thanks for reading!

Roy and Ed sat outside the hospital room, desperate to be anywhere but where they were. And no, they were not hiding. It was simply common sense. The room was very small, and this whole mess was all of Al’s own making, so he deserved to be in that room, dealing with the repercussions of his own actions.

Equivalent Exchange, and all that.

Edward hated to throw his brother under the train like this, but he also wasn’t stupid.

“Alphonse Elric…” gasp… “So help me, if you ever come near me again you’re going to need automail! Where it hurts!” Winry screamed. A passing nurse flinched, giving both Roy and Ed a sympathetic look before scurrying away.

“…please tell me that’s the pain talking, doctor,” came Al’s quiet, pained voice.

“I heard that!”

“Perhaps you should wait outside, Mr. Elric –“

“Don’t you dare leave me –“ grunt – “Alphonse!”

A whimper came from the room. The two waiting alchemists, two of the most feared men in the country, sunk a little lower in their seat. 

“You know, occasions such as this are really more about family,” Roy began, “And I do have an awful lot of paperwork waiting for me back at the office…”

“You’re not going anywhere, Roy Mustang!” came a shrill scream from the room. Roy whimpered and curled a little lower in his seat. Ed would’ve smirked had he not been so terrified himself.

The screaming continued on for a while longer, Winry’s gasping threats alternating between a very detailed commentary of what she would do to Alphonse if he ever dared touch her again, to what she would do him if he dared leave her right now. The only other noise in the ward were the fearful whimpers from Alphonse – and possibly the doctor – and Pinako’s low chuckle.

“I have never before been so happy that I’m married to another man,” Roy whispered to Ed. Ed nodded frantically.

“I never want to go through this again,” he replied.

About twenty minutes later, and some unintelligible screams from Winry, a sharp cry suddenly rent the air. Both Roy and Ed exhaled deeply. 

“Is it over,” Roy asked his husband, and had his answer as the door opened and the doctor bolted for it.

“It’s over, boys,” Pinako announced from the doorway, a wide grin on her face. “Come meet your new niece.”

The two men reluctantly entered the room, placing their own bouquets on the dresser next to the red and white roses Alphonse had already brought with him. They then approached the bed like prisoners to their execution.

Winry was obviously tired, her face still flushed as she smiled down at the tiny bundle in her arms. Al also beamed down at his little daughter from his place at his wife’s shoulder, even as he discretely checked his poor, bruised hand for broken bones.

The little bundle shifted, and Ed melted a bit as the tiny little girl yawned and blearily looked in his direction. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad, he thought, the baby was half his brother, one of the sweetest, nicest people in existence…

“Edward! Hydrangeas?! Really!” Winry screeched at him, glaring at her brother-in-law in disapproval. Roy smirked – his own arrangement of white poppies and olive branches obviously passing muster – while Al sighed and shook his head fondly at his wife and brother.

“Hey, you’re the one who decided to bring this tiny terror into the wor- OW!” He yelped as a tiny little wrench smacked into his cheek, barely missing his eye. Roy and Ed both looked down at the now giggling baby in a mixture of surprise and fear.

“Where did she even get the wrench?!” Ed yelped again. Roy just whimpered.

Winry’s only response was to smile proudly at her cooing baby girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I could go much further with this, but I’m going to end it here before it gets redundant. Thanks for all the reviews, and look out for more FMA stories to come!
> 
> The meaning of the flowers:
> 
> From Al: red and white roses, symbolizing unity.
> 
> Roy: olive & white poppies, symbolizing peace & rejoicing, among other things
> 
> And of course, Edward gave her hydrangeas (heartlessness) with baby-sized wrenches, which symbolize her heartlessness at bringing another wrench-throwing terror into the world. He is joking.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Ed will be in the hospital next. Because Roy needs his chance to be evil in return. So look for that Sunday!


End file.
